Wanderlust

Sometimes we hear news and we have a reaction that surprises us. My dad is 70 years old and was recently laid off. In a perfect world, he would be retired already and staying home to drive my mother nuts. Instead, their financial situation kept him working and the lay off scared my parents. I know that he started looking for work immediately and even met with a bunch of recruiters just to get his resume out to as many places as quickly as possible.

My dad called me tonight which is unusual. He only calls when there’s bad news or if he wants to bitch that he hasn’t seen his granddaughters enough. Knowing that he spent time with them on Saturday and Sunday, I knew that couldn’t be the purpose of his call. I was in the middle of putting the girls to bed when he called so I called him back. He asked if the girls were in bed then told me to sit down. Obviously, this wasn’t going to be good.

My dad found a job. This job will take him to Afghanistan for a year, working on computer systems on an American military base. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he would take a job like that, one that would require him to wear a uniform even. He was in the Air Force for over 20 years and even though he’s been retired for decades, I’m certain he’s missed that life every single day.

My dad joined the military at 17. I don’t know all that he did in the military, but I know that he was in Viet Nam and later was part of a Special Ops group that flew C-130s around the world. We were stationed in Germany for the better part of my childhood and I remember many TDYs where he’d be gone for weeks at a time, but never long enough for a permanent change of station. Wherever he went, he brought home wonderful gifts and never arrived on time. This is where the “hurry up and wait” expression comes from. Thankfully, C-130s are so freakin’ loud, we always knew when he was close. I remember going to meet his plane after he had been gone forever. They were supposed to arrive at some crazy time in the middle of the night. My mom was smart and knew better. She brought things for us to do and blankets for us to snuggle up with. Hours later, we heard the plane arrive and jumped out of the car. We looked and looked for my dad, but couldn’t find him. I remember being on the sidewalk leading to their squadron and turning all the way around, wondering where he was. There was a thin man in a flight suit with a mustache laughing his ass off at us. He had been gone so long, he had grown a mustache and started running so he lost a ton of weight. Since that day, he has worn a mustache.

His last job in the military was flying on a security detail for President Reagan. He retired in the early 1980’s then went to college and worked in the computer industry. There were some hard times financially and we finally moved halfway across the country when I was 15. Since that time, he’s had multiple jobs, some of which have involved travel, mostly within the United States. Last year he did spend a bit of time in Qatar doing something similar to what he will do in Afghanistan.

My reaction should be that I am scared for my dad, going to such a dangerous part of the world. Instead, I am jealous. I am jealous because I never had an opportunity to do something like this. To take a job that would let me see more of the world. I never wanted to be in the military, nor did I want to travel to dangerous areas. When I was in high school, I wanted to become a teacher and work in areas of the country where there weren’t a lot of teachers. I had Appalachia and Indian reservations specifically in mind. Obviously, I never got that teaching degree so those dreams were never realized.

Instead I got married and had babies. I’ve only recently achieved my goal of earning a Bachelor’s degree. This degree is in business and I’ve done a little research, if only to dream, looking at jobs that would take me around the world. I found an interesting position with the FBI that required a year working in Dubai. L’Oreal offers internships to students in a variety of degree programs to learn their business at their various facilities in Europe.

I don’t for a single instant regret the path my life has taken. I have an amazing family and live in a beautiful home. I earned my degree as an adult, which made me appreciate the education more than I would have as a teenager/young adult. Every once in a while though, I can’t help daydreaming about the places I could see and the jobs that I could have if only I had gotten a degree immediately after graduating from high school.

I complain about my dad, but I am very much like him. He can be arrogant, condescending and rude. He is opinionated and is always right. I have many of those traits as well, but I try to keep those behaviors under wraps and use my “inside voice.” This blog is an outlet for some of those things. There is one trait that I have that is from my dad that I’m not ashamed of: the wanderlust to see the world and do things that many others wouldn’t think of doing. He started his travels at the age of 17 and his choices gave my sister and me the opportunity to travel around and see things that many others haven’t seen.

At 70 he continues to feed his “wanderlust.” Perhaps that can be my goal… I’ll start traveling the world as a crotchety old woman of 70. Imagine that. 

xoxo

Ice Princess

Sissy

Some people would move the earth for you. Some people wouldn’t pee on you if you were ablaze. We all know people like this and as you read that sentence, you might have come up with your own prime examples under each category. How do you deal with people in the second category when they are related to you? Or worse, when you marry someone who has relatives like that? When it’s your own family, you have the option of delivering a much-deserved bitch slap and hopefully moving on right after.

I have admitted many times in this blog that my own family drives me batshit crazy, but they’re still my family. I try to do right by them and always make sure to bring the kids around a lot as I feel that it’s important for them to know their grandparents, aunts and uncles. EN has also gotten into the habit of stopping at his mother’s with the girls once a week for a visit. I’m sure that as the weather gets warmer, this might be more challenging as the girls will want to be home swimming or playing with their friends.

EN’s sister is the opposite. She will not help family. She will not visit family. The only time that she’s available is if there’s a possibility that she will get a gift from someone. I could fill pages, telling stories about the things she’s done but in the grand scheme of things I’ll end up looking like a liar. No one on earth could really be that selfish and self centered, right?

It’s become a long-standing family joke at this point that you could invite Sissy, her husband and son to anything with tons of notice and they’ll find an excuse not to attend. Their cars aren’t running. The baby has a runny nose It's too windy where they live. Her husband’s back is hurt. It might snow four days from now and she needs to stay home in anticipation of the Next Great Blizzard.

Frankly, her way of being has never bothered me because I can’t stand being around her. I’m almost always delighted that she cannot attend different events. Not only is she unwilling to participate in family functions, but she complains that she is not included and she’s always the odd man out. I’m sorry honeybunch, but you just can’t have it both ways. You either take part in things or you stop bitching about it. Period. No exceptions, we’ve all had enough.

This week EN Senior gets to make a somewhat painful trip to visit his own dad. EN Senior and his siblings will be getting together to discuss Great Grandpa’s living situation and assisted living options. Even before talks have begun, it’s obvious this will not be an easy trip to make.

As always, EN Senior prepares well in advance. We’ve known for quite some time that he’d be flying up and staying two hours away. He got in touch with both EN and Sissy yesterday to remind them that he’d be around and offered to “meet in the middle” for dinner and a visit with his kids and grandkids. He and EN started discussing different options while Sissy offered up a bunch of excuses all at once as to why she couldn’t drive ONE HOUR to visit her father.

I guess I really shouldn’t be surprised. Her own mother now lives 45 minutes away and she never bothers to visit with her. God forbid someone ask her to drive an HOUR ALONE with a BABY in the car. I guess I could see her point if we were, let’s say, Amish and she needed to traverse snow-covered fields for hours in a horse-drawn carriage. But no, this is the girl that is constantly bragging about all the cars and motorcycles they have.  

Instead of whining and complaining about her car not running right, perhaps they should sell the five or six they own, and some of the 47 motorcycles they claim to have and buy one or two reliable cars? If she’s not willing to do that, then I just might be willing to smack her in the mouth the next time she complains that Sugar and Spice don’t seem to know her as well as they know my sister.

I wrote this to stop myself from calling her and telling her what a douchebag she really is. It’s killing me to keep my mouth shut.  

xoxo

Ice Princess

The Last Dance

Saturday EN and Sugar attended the annual Father Daughter Dance together. This event is held at Sugar’s school. In September she will be heading off to middle school so this was their last event. Neither one said much about being sad that it was their last dance, but it was bittersweet for me. It means my girl is growing up.

Preparations began several weeks ago when we bought the dress. It was a pale pink strappy number that Sugar loved. In years past, we’ve had much drama during this process as well so I was relieved that we found something we liked our first time out. We looked for shoes in quite a few stores but didn’t find the right pair until Friday night. I think the pressure was on!

EN had his suit cleaned and ordered the corsage. I picked everything up Saturday morning while they were at skating lessons. Saturday afternoon was dedicated to getting ready for the big event. I curled Sugar’s hair and painted her nails.

Of course preparations are not without drama. The back of her hair wasn’t curly enough and her bangs weren’t doing the “side-swept straight” thing quite right. Her (non) boobs were hanging out of the dress that she swore fit properly in the store. And the mama is left feeling that nothing she does is good enough. Spice added to the drama by putting Lola in her doll crib and running back and forth through the upstairs hallway with it. While I stood there, armed with hot curlers, a curling iron and a straightening iron, all I could picture was a two-pound puppy tumbling down the stairs.

After a few tense moments (which felt like hours), Sugar found a little pink jacket that she had worn the year before and put it on. It matched the new dress perfectly yet hid the boob issue. I’m still not entirely sure that she was happy with her hair though. I did my best, but maybe it’s worth paying the money to have a professional do it right.

We went into the family room and took a few pictures. I noted that as the years have gone on, we’ve taken fewer and fewer pictures. At least I remembered to take the dead plants off the mantle before they posed!

The happy couple left for the big dance and I was stuck with a scowling, sobbing Spice who was clutching, none to gently, a terrified puppy. Spice was tired and I’m sure unhappy to see her sister all dolled up while she had to stay home with a mama who was grumpy by this point.

We spent our evening making brownies and playing Hi Ho Cherry-O. Statistically, I cannot figure out how she kept landing on all the right numbers, while I landed on all the wrong ones. She graciously celebrated her many wins with fist pumps, butt shakes and “woo hoooos.” I drowned my sorrows in the batch of brownies.

Our evening was periodically interrupted with texts from EN asking the names of various fathers. It’s beyond me how after four years he can’t remember a single name, while I know them all off the top of my head. Thank God for the technology we are armed with so that I could help him. The best text came towards the end of the night when EN texted, “Would you let your kid wear an ass-cheek miniskirt, black nylons, knee high boots and a garter?!”

Their enchanted evening passed without drama. Sugar and her friends all played nicely and danced up a storm. EN socialized with the other dads that were left behind under the basketball hoop. EN and Sugar seemed to have met in the middle a few times to dance together.

They returned with big smiles and Sugar said, “The last one was the best one.” I guess the crappy hairdo didn’t matter so much after all.

EN has a year off as Spice will only be in kindergarten next year, which is a separate school. I can only imagine the drama she will bring to dress shopping, preparations and attendance of this event. Remind me then that I said I am no longer on the hair committee. 

xoxo

Ice Princess

Thoughts on a Friday Night

Earlier this week I blogged about the lecture on domestic violence that I heard in my mediation training on Wednesday night. I said something about having had a boyfriend throw me against a wall and dumping him the next day. I feel like my comment may have trivialized this problem in our society. I realize that the problem becomes so much more difficult to solve when there is a marriage and children involved. My comment was not meant to offend, and if it did, I sincerely apologize. Getting out of a situation like that is certainly not as simple as dumping a boyfriend.

I wrote about wanting to get involved to somehow help the victims of domestic violence. I’m happy to say that I started researching different opportunities available and sent an email to the shelter closest to my home. I haven’t heard anything back yet, but I certainly hope I do so that I can find a way to become more involved in my local community.

I also found some information about a charity walk called Missy’s Hope. This event will occur on October 15, 2011. It’s a 5K Walk/Run that I plan on taking part in, providing that the wedding I’m attending that day is later in the evening. I’m likely to bring a daughter or two and a puppy or three and would love to have friends join us (you know this fat ass will be walking, not running!). As the event gets closer, I’ll definitely send out information via the blog and Facebook.

Several months ago I wrote about a tragic murder that occurred locally. One of the criminals was convicted back in November. I’m thrilled beyond belief that the second participant in these hideous crimes was convicted today. His attorneys tried to prove that he was insane at the time of the crime. The jury did not buy his story and found him to be legally sane. I’m happy they will spend their lives behind bars, but part of me is angry about this. They planned this crime and bragged about it afterwards, seemingly without remorse. I am remorseful that my tax dollars will pay for them to have three hots and a cot. There’s certainly a quicker, cheaper way to punish these bastards.

The husband of the victim and the daughter that survived the attack were in the courtroom to hear the sentencing. The husband spoke beautifully of his wife and the life that was tragically taken too soon. Their daughter did not speak, but I was overwhelmed to see her in the courtroom. I think it took incredible courage for her to be there and face her attacker. She survived his attack by playing dead until the criminals left the house and she displayed that same strength today.

I think her mother would be proud.

xoxo

Ice Princess 

Here It Is, Cupcakes!

I will start this post with the note that much of this may seem petty and not worth worrying about to many of you. But then, many of you are mothers and you will understand how much the small stuff matters to young girls. And when something matters to my girls, and that matter hurts them… Well, it brings out the Mama Bear in me.

I have already spent so much time ranting about these people involved in Sugar’s Girl Scout troop that I feel like I should stop complaining. Then something new happens and gets me fired up all over again.

At the end of February, Sugar’s BFFL told her that C couldn’t stand her. This girl happens to be in the same Girl Scout troop. It seems to me that BFFL is in cohoots with this other girl and since she told Sugar of C’s dislike, C has become more public about it. I have seen them interact twice since then, and I notice that C is charming and sweet when her mother is nearby, but when she’s out of sight, she specifically excludes Sugar. When Sugar approaches, she pulls the other girls away. Yes, this is life, not everyone has to like you, but it’s so hurtful when you see this happen to your own child.

I am not sure if this occurs in every household, but when it’s our turn to bring snack for any meeting or party, it’s a big deal. A HUGE deal, in fact. We start planning in advance, discussing our options, different recipes, what everyone else has already brought and what everyone likes. This was our week to provide a snack for the Girl Scout meeting and we decided on cupcakes.

Sugar was at school on Monday and discussed this with BFFL. C was listening in and said, “You aren’t bringing snack, it’s my turn.” That night, Sugar told me about it and I said I knew it was our week. She got really worked up about it so I agreed to email the leader to confirm. I got a response back from the leader that said she had heard from C’s mom that day and she’s always “on top of things” and didn’t mention a snack. Part of me wonders if there's and inference that I’m not “on top of things” by reconfirming snack, but whatever.

When I returned from training last night, I asked Sugar how her meeting went and if everyone liked her cupcakes. She said they did, then said “And C brought a snack too!” This is huge drama with the 10-year-old set. It’s like C invaded her territory and she was PISSED. How dare she? I am sure that I didn’t help things by getting mad myself. Seeing my girls hurt brings out the worst in me. I may have used my outside voice and said something like “C is an asshole.”

As I’ve already said, I don’t know if snack is a huge deal everywhere, but it is at my house and apparently it is at the C's house. I just don’t understand why this mom that is so “on top of things” would bring a snack when it wasn’t her turn? I’m sure C went home and mentioned that Sugar was planning a snack, right??

In a month or perhaps even a few days, this issue will be a non-issue, I’m sure. But today my girl is sad and she feels she’s not being treated nicely. I reminded her again that NO ONE has the right to hurt her EVER. If she’s that bothered by the behavior, I fully support her if she’d like to quit going to the Girl Scout meetings. Extra-curricular activities are supposed to be fun times with friends. If she’s not having fun, it’s not worth the trouble.

The annual Father Daughter Dance is this weekend and EN will be attending with Sugar. Last night I made him aware of the situation and he told me that he’s not surprised. In fact, he can’t stand C’s father… “Every time I see that guy he says, ‘How’s it going, Pal?’ I’m not his damn PAL!” I was surprised by EN’s reaction because nothing bothers him and he typically gets along with everyone.

I asked him to please keep an eye on the interactions between the girls. If C gets out of line, he’s got direct orders to trip the little bitch.

xoxo

Ice Princess

An Eye Opener

One house.

Two house.

Three house.

Domestic Violence.

That was the focus of Mediation Training tonight, domestic violence and how prevalent it is in our society. Some of the statistics were staggering, but the gist of the presentation was that it happens in 25% of “couple” relationships, whether they are gay or straight. Some of the material was so disturbing that I felt tears in my eyes for most of the evening. It’ll be a long time before I get over the things I heard and saw. My heart breaks for these people, but I still can’t wrap my head around the most obvious of questions:

Why don’t they just leave?

I once had a boyfriend that threw me against a wall and my arm slammed on the outside corner of the wall. It hurt, but it was a wake up call. The next day, that guy was no longer my boyfriend. There are just some things I won’t put up with and physical violence is one of those things.

There are many programs for people in this situation to turn to, but sadly most don’t have adequate funding to offer full-time services. In fact, in my state only one of 12 crisis centers has the funds available to run 24/7. The rest are only open during regular business hours.

This brings me to one of my favorite pet peeves that I like to jump on my soap box about: why are American citizens always so quick to rush to the aid of human beings around the world, but we are stingy when it comes to helping our fellow Americans? We do this as a country. We send military forces around the world to aid the governments' of other countries. We do this as households. We send a check to help the poor in other nations, but when was the last time we sent a check to the local homeless or crisis center?

I’m a big fan of helping the underdog and I feel inspired to do something. I don’t know how or when, but it is my goal to do something to help this population. Whether it’s getting the training necessary to work on a crisis hotline or actually donating time in a center on a regular basis, I will do something. And now that I’ve blogged about it, there’s no backing down. It’s a goal that I put in writing and I will stick to it. I’ve blogged before about not being thrilled with the touchy feely aspect of mediation, but maybe I was meant to take this training to open my eyes to other issues…

The end result of tonight’s training was that mediators need to screen for domestic violence and if they feel that there is something going on, mediation is likely not a good way for this couple to work through a divorce. An abuser exerts control over the victim, and the victim may want to just give everything up to the abuser just to be free of the relationship. The point of mediation is to come to an equitable solution between two parties. Nothing’s equitable if one is giving up everything and the other is intimidating the victim to do just that. Then there’s the impartiality issue. As a mediator, how do you remain unbiased, knowing that one has been abusive towards the other? 

Certainly a disturbing, eye-opening evening. I was lucky to have my parents take care of the girls and all went well. Of course I was greeted with further Girl Scout drama when I walked in the door. It doesn't feel right to include that vent on this post, so that will be blogged about tomorrow. Yes, that's right, more Girl Scout bullshit that I know you don't really want to hear. Suck it up Cupcakes! It's coming your way!

xoxo

Ice Princess

The New Girl

I got the call around 4:15 on Friday that our baby was ready to come home. I knew she had an appointment at 3:00 pm and the vet would do some testing to see if the puppies needed to be dewormed, which would have delayed homecoming until Sunday.

I picked up the girls from their respective schools and told them that I had to go pick up a book from one of my classmates. When we got to the breeder’s, we were let in before she walked out of the living room holding our sweet girl. She was the last one left from the litter. The girls looked at her in astonishment, never before had they seen a puppy so tiny. The girls oohed and aahed about how cute she was and before she could stop herself, Sugar said, “Can we bring her ho… I mean, she’s really cute and I’d love to have her!” She apparently was trying to be on her best behavior and remember that she’s not supposed to ask for endless amounts of crap every time we go anywhere.

The girls’ eyes went wide with disbelief when I said, “Do you think we should take her home?” Between the hooting and hollering, I tried to talk with the breeder about feeding times, potty training, etc. Before long, we were on our way home. I had to be fair and told the girls that they’d each get to hold the puppy for half the ride home. They were so in love that they couldn’t be bothered to argue.

The Name Game started at this point. Spice suggested Sparkles, Sprinkles and Twinkles and Sugar seemed quite set with the name we had chosen in our hypothetical discussion several weeks back. The ride home was filled with commentary about how smart their new puppy was. “Look Mama, she moved her head. Look Mama she stretched.” This puppy is the most wonderful, the smartest, the cutest, they adored this little girl.

Once or twice *ahem* in the past, I have brought home new pets and I’ve learned (maybe I read it somewhere?) that it’s best to introduce the pack on neutral territory. When we got home the girls stayed in the car while I went in to get Bella Boo and Indy. We introduced them in the driveway. The puppy squealed and the older two looked at her like, “What the hell is that? Is it a guinea pig?!” Bella loves everyone, so she didn’t seem to care much. I expected Indy to be furious but he was much mellower than I thought he would be.

The night continued on as it had begun on the ride home: everything this puppy did was marvelous and magical. I forced the girls to take turns with the puppy and the older two. Everyone needed to feel a little love. Spice burst into tears multiple times saying she was crying because she “loved the new puppy so much.”

I expected bedtime to be rough and the puppy cried a little right before I tucked her in. I put her in a teensy dog bed next to me and Sugar heard the commotion and came in with a sleeping bag to sleep next to her. Bella spent the night pacing from her bed to the puppy’s to make sure she was OK. Indy curled up under the covers of my bed and pouted.

It wasn’t the easiest weekend. There were endless fights over whose turn with the puppy were longer, whose turn was next, etc. Indy still seems slightly miffed, but I’ve caught him loving her up a few times when she’s been asleep.

Then there’s the name game. We had one chosen, but the name seemed too big for a two pounder. We went through endless names over the weekend with friends and family sending suggestions as well.

Gingersnap. Pom Pom. Mimi. Coco. Snooki. Sabrina. Skittles. Bear. Poco. Morgan. Bitsy. Princess. Puppy. Baby. Mimosa. Hops. Hoppy. Ginger. Killer. I’m sure I’ve left out half of the suggestions.

This morning, the girls broke into song when they saw the puppy. When a word causes a household to break into song together, that’s the name you should choose.

Welcome to our house, Lola… We think you’re gonna like it here!

xoxo

Ice Princess